Ducks in a Row
by brainysmrf
Summary: One shot about wrangling their baby duck...




"Agent Booth, do you have a minute?" Sweets asked as he slowly approached Booth's desk.

Booth groaned, "_Only_ a minute."

Sweets timidly took a seat but failed to speak.

"Why are you here?"

"I was hoping we could talk."

With a sour face Booth grumbled, "About what?"

"Hey, I never whine when I listen to you."

He leaned across his desk and pointed at Sweets, "That's because you are paid to listen to me. And listening to me is benefiting you in other ways – what perks do I get for chit chatting with you?"

Sweets bit the corner of his mouth and nodded, "I understand…I can just…" He stood and started to leave.

"Wait…come here." Booth's Catholic conscience kicked in, "What's going on?"

"I've been asked to head up a new research program for the bureau. I would be researching the wide variety of dysfunctional schemata in individuals who have committed violent crimes, looking for reccuring themes and patterns."

Booth looked at him puzzled.

Sweets tried to explain it more clearly, "I'd be interviewing sociopaths who live according to their own made up beliefs and have committed crimes serving what they believed in without any regard for anything else."

"They want you to talk with psycho-killers about why they did what they did? Describe the voices and all that?"

Sweets nodded, "Ultimately, the research that I did would hopefully help to discover if there is a genetic link to these severe personality disorders. Something that can be tested for and headed off before it's too late."

"Sounds like a blast. So, what? You can't hang out with me and Bones as much as you used to? Are you going to be spending most of your time in the Cuckoo's Nest? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, I'm ok with that." Booth flattened his palms on his desk and started to push himself up.

"Not exactly, I would have to move to Portland, Oregon."

Booth sat back down and tilted his head back and forth, "It rains a lot and they're still trying to get over Grunge but it's really green and the people are friendly – you'll do fine out there. It's a geek paradise."

Smiling, Sweets agreed, "I know, I went to a conference there last year and I loved it. I just… I love the job I already have. I'm happy here, you know?"

"Then stay."

"But case studies like the ones I'll be offered there are what careers are made of, I don't know how I can pass that up."

Booth dropped his elbows to his desk and his cheeks in his hands, "Then go."

"Agent Booth, I came to you specifically because I know from reading your file that there are numerous departments and task forces that have wanted you over the years and yet, here you still are. I was hoping you could share with me why you've stayed in the same place."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, "Look, Sweets I'm sure that I had good reasons for turning the offers down but off the top of my head…I can't…."

Sweets flipped open the file he had been clutching, "Ok, what about….October, 2001 – you were asked to be a part of the Anti-Terrorism Taskforce and you declined. This was right after 9/11, I can't imagine you of all people saying no to that request."

Booth rubbed his brow with his palm, "Parker was nine weeks old when they asked me. I was already struggling with the fact that Rebecca wasn't letting me see him and I knew that if I took that position I'd never be around for my son. And then on the rare occassion that I _was_ in town, she would have used my job against me. I love my son more than my country – I'm not ashamed to admit that. But this, _this_ isn't about me, is it?" He stood and covertly went into what he secretly referred to as 'Sweet-ness mode'.

He took a seat across from the young doctor and folded his hands in his lap, "Are you afraid of the unknown that is a new city?"

"No, I acclimate very well."

Booth sniffed once and reached for a notebook on this desk, flipping it open he asked, "You and Daisy broke up, correct?"

"We did. It was mutual and I was prepared for it. I'm not considering the job because of a broken heart."

"Let's look at this objectively, ok?" Booth asked after picking up a pen and making a few notes.

Sweets sat up straight and then leaned toward Booth, completely ready for the guidance he had been needing.

"Here in DC, you have a job and what else?"

"An apartment."

"That you rent." Booth pointed out. "You can rent a place anywhere."

"Yeah."

"I have friends and colleagues here."

"You'll have colleagues wherever you work and you'll make new friends."

Sweets nodded, "Excellent points…I have nothing keeping me here." Then, as he considered his previous statement, Sweets realized he was alone. He mumbled to himself, "I have no tethers…I'm like that red balloon the little Parisian boy chased but…no one's chasing me…"

As he sat listening to Sweets slowly unravel, Booth could only see the look on Brennan's face that night in his kitchen when Dr. Wyatt brought to light just how much the young Dr. Sweets needed them.

"_We can find a permanent place for him, right?"_ She had asked calmly with her words but her eyes had begged so loudly that he could still hear the echoes. Booth closed his eyes for a moment and tried to put her pleading out of his mind but he couldn't.

For better or for worse, they were stuck with this baby duck. They had found him during a crucial stage of his development and because of the time he had spent with them, He had grown accustomed to their ways and now he'd never survive in the wild alone. And, because of the way they had trained him with glares and sarcasm, he'd be little or no use to anyone else.

"Quack, quack…" Booth mumbled under his breath as he stood up, slapping Sweets' knee in the process. "Alright, time's up."

"But I haven't…Do you think that I should leave simply because I wouldn't be missed?" Sweets was confused as Booth pushed him to the door.

"You're not going anywhere. Alright?"

Sweets nodded, "Wait, I'm not? We just established that I have no home. There is no where I am supposed to be."

"Yes, there is, Sweets." Booth paused for a moment. _"He imprinted on us like a baby duck?"_ Brennan had asked Gordon Gordon that night. It was a question, sure, but more of a statement from her – she liked the idea even if she never would have admitted it out loud.

Booth looked at the very confused doctor and then snapped his fingers when the best way to explain things came to him, "Ok, think of DC as one big forest and then, think of this building and the Jeffersonian as the biggest pond in that forest, ok? And I'm the head honcho of the pond." Sweets nodded and Booth continued, "In order for me to do what is expected and to get the job done for the head honchos of the forest, I have to keep all my ducks in line. I get a duck out of formation and I'm getting my ass handed to me by the senior tree person – I don't need that. So I gotta keep all of _my_ ducks, in _my _pond, where I can keep _my _eyes on them."

Booth noticed that Sweets still seemed confused. He slapped him on the back and said, "Stay in the pond, Sweets. It's your home and you're needed there."

Several moments passed before Booth's words completely sunk in for Sweets and when they did, the agent was nowhere to be found. He smiled, knowing that he had a home. He was one of Booth's ducks and he knew that because of that simple fact he would be ok.

Walking back to his office he ran into Brennan.

"Why are you smiling?" She asked suspiciously.

Sweets shrugged with his hands in his pockets, "I just realized that I'm where I'm supposed to be. In my row with the other ducks."

Brennan shook her head, "No, you are not. You are _supposed_ to be in your office with Booth and myself for our session."

Brennan turned on her heel and marched back toward his office. Sweets called out to her, "But I didn't leave the pond."

Booth looked up when he heard Brennan enter the office, "Where's Sweets?"

Slamming the office door behind her, she rolled her eyes and took a seat next to Booth, "He's coming…He was going on about duck rows? Apparently, he thinks that he's supposed to be in a pond…How can he be the person responsible for our mental health?"

"He's just being a good duck, Bones. Can't fault him for that."

"Because…." She looked over at him, wide-eyed. "Duck?"

"You heard Gordon Gordon, Sweets is our duck and we have to keep an eye on him."

"You told him what Dr. Wyatt said?"

"No, of course not." Booth sighed and turned to face her, "Sweets was offered a new job, on the other side of the country and I told him he couldn't go because he was needed here and then I might have said something about ducks and ponds but the main thing is I let him know-"

Brennan cut him off, "That he had a permanent place with us?"

He nodded and smiled faintly.

"Thank you, Booth."

He scoffed and turned back around to face Sweets' desk, "Hey, I didn't do it for you. I like having a shrink I can intimidate – do you think he's ever gonna take my gun away?"


End file.
